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At A Dry Cleaners' Shop
posted Thursday, 5 October 2006
It was a pretty pleasant day today—neither hot nor cold. A cool gentle breeze made the trees nod their heads in silent reverence. The entire city was calmly at peace-or so it seemed. I was driving home from work rather leisurely when I remembered that I had to stop by the cleaners to pick up a suit that I had left over there. As I was enjoying the ride home in the tranquility of my car, my mind began to stray to other trivial issues. Will the Philadelphia Eagles make it to the playoffs this year? How about a colonoscopy—isn’t it too invasive? My boyhood friend still in Nigeria gave me the wonderful news that he was getting married—what sort of presents should I send to him seeing as I cannot make it to his wedding? Thus did I continue to daydream until a heard a loud bang. I was jolted back to the present forcefully.It sounded like a gunshot. I looked around and then at the rearview mirror. A few yards behind me, I saw a very distraught driver trying to negotiate his way to the shoulder of the road. Apparently, it was one of his tires that had exploded and made that terribly loud noise. I wondered how this was possible especially when I considered the fact that it had been a cool day all along. Oh well, I guess some things are better left unexplained.
Not too long afterwards, I arrived at the dry cleaners’ office with my receipt in hand. Three other people were already in there waiting to get attended to. The lady at the counter had a very tortured expression on her face, so I wondered whether any of the customers were giving her a hard time. I did not have long to wait before I got the full picture.
Apparently, customer A—a slender 5’8 white woman who I’ll call Alice—noted that there was a conspicuous stain on her blouse. Secondly, she charged that one of the pants was slightly ripped at the side pocket and demanded to know what could have brought such deformities on her clothes. The poor South Korean woman behind the counter alleged that the stain on her blouse was on it the day she brought it, and that try as they could, they were unable to remove it. She also contended that the pants had a gash on it but that she called the number on Alice’s ticket receipt and demanded to know whether they should sew it up for a flat $15 fee but was turned down.
This was how their shouting match began. A real nasty fight accompanied by accusations and counter accusations. I was at the door witnessing the nasty exchange of words, thinking of a polite way to make peace between the irate customer and her equally aggravated dry cleaner. At some point the second person in line, a middle aged Japanese guy let out a loud sigh—a clever ploy to let the squabbling women realize that his time was limited and that something needed to be done. At that point in time, the Korean woman pressed a buzzer and then moved over to a second POS terminal to attend to the Japanese man. Alice was clearly not going to allow herself be pushed into a corner, so after ejaculating a quick “ excuse me sir” in the direction of the Japanese man, she jumped ahead of him into the line, screaming and yelling at the Korean lady for daring to shove her case aside.
Not too long after that, an old slightly droopy Korean emerged from the dark recesses of this laundry service room. He spoke impeccable English, much to my amazement, and then asked politely to know how he may be of assistance. Before Alice could utter a word, the South Korean lady let fly a barrage of quick Korean in the direction of her supervisor and then turned around to get the receipt of the middle aged Japanese man. The third person in line, a Hispanic woman, must have understood what she said for she started laughing. Observing at the door, what I understood was that the Korean chic was highly pissed so she gambled on the chance that no one understood Korean to thoroughly insult her combative customer.
Alice seemed to have calmed down a bit to explain to the wizened old manager or whatchamacallit the source of her angst, when the Hispanic woman looked at Alice shyly and said in an emphatic but joking tone:
“Hey Miss, she called you a skinny whore who does not bother to take off her clothes when doing her dirty deed which was what explains both the stain and the tear on your clothes”
All hell was let loose. She lunged at the poor South Korean woman and gave her a nasty slap. The whole place was thrown into pandemonium. The Hispanic chic turned around to me and gave me a look as if to ask what I was doing at the door when these two women were tearing themselves apart. I looked at my watch, took a final look at the petty mob scene and walked away to my car.
“If I get into the middle of this, all the blame may be piled on me at the end. Besides, if the cops or a camera crew gets there, I may find myself in a bit of a pickle” I reasoned.
“I can always come back tomorrow to get my suit” I muttered as I entered my car. I turned the ignition and was away from the scene in a flash!
Leave your comments here (5)
1. rush3k left...
Friday, 6 October 2006 6:50 am
I never leave when the party's just starting. I jump right in ... head
first.
2. Kristina left...
Friday, 6 October 2006 1:48 pm
I know Rusk3k would love a scene like that..hahaha hmmm but truth be told i
wouldn't move an inch myself,not that i take pride in seeing women fight
but hey! a scene like that will keep me glued to wherever i am.
3. azbaby left...
Friday, 13 October 2006 1:16 am
Thank you very much Obinna, I needed the laugh this evening. LOL I hope you
finally get your clothes without any battle scars.
4. Obinna left...
Saturday, 21 October 2006 2:26 pm
Azbaby:
5. eastcoastlife left...
Friday, 27 October 2006 5:48 am :: http://www.eastcoastlife.blogspot.com
ha ha ....Hello from Singapore! I enjoy reading your posts.
Best wishes.